


Extreme Clues

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Series: The Wrestlememe-ia Experience [4]
Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling), Lucha Underground, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Meme, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrestle prompts from Tumblr, originating from a prompt meme where prompts were given in the form of Clue solutions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adrian Neville

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> majorheelturn asked: *claps eagerly at this concept* hmm. how about Adrian in the library with a feather?

It had taken some time for the interlibrary loan librarian at Full Sail to  _find_  a cop of _Blue Blood on the Mat,_  and then once found it had taken another three weeks before the New York Public Library’s copy arrived at the desk, but that just made Adrian want to read it more. The librarian was obviously pleased too; she’d initially been skeptical when Adrian had come to her asking for help finding it–she wasn’t a fan of wrestling–but by the time the book actually  _arrived_  they’d spent enough time talking that they were, if not friends, at least people who respected each other.

Then there was the problem of finding somewhere quiet and out-of-the-way to read, and Adrian ending up tucking himself into a secluded corner of the library where he wouldn’t disturb any students. Quiet spot. Good light.

He settled down to read.

Ten pages in, a bright pink feather floated down from…somewhere…and landed in his book.

He looked up.

Tyler Breeze was, for some reason, stretched out on  _top_  of one of the shelves, reading an issue of  _Vogue Italia._  He didn’t actually seem to have noticed Adrian’s presence. Presumably his thought had been similar to Adrian’s–this spot was good for avoiding fans and Full Sail kids. The feather had apparently come off his vest, which he was wearing  _over_  a fairly ordinary shirt and jeans.

Adrian decided to ignore him in turn and went back to his book, but a moment later another vividly pink feather landed in the middle of the paragraph he was _reading,_  and he looked up and said, softly, “Tyler.”

Tyler went still in the act of turning a page in his magazine and looked down at him. His eyes narrowed. “What are  _you_  doing here?”

“Reading, same as you.” Adrian held up the feathers. “You’re molting, mate.”

Tyler peered at the feather, and then at the hem of his vest, and scowled. “I am going to  _kill_  Giuseppe.”

“Mind taking it off? Just so’s you’re not shedding all over my book?”

_“Ugh.”_

A moment later the entire  _vest_  landed on Adrian’s book.

He put it aside with a grin and went back to reading.


	2. Hideo Itami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mxjoyride asked: hideo itami in the kitchen with the waffle iron

Hideo pours batter into the waffle iron, closes it, and then pauses. “Wait. Did you say…ice cream on waffle?”

Bayley grins. “Yes! Vanilla ice cream! And strawberries!”

He stares at her. “Why would you put ice cream on a waffle?”

“Oh, come on, haven’t you  _ever_  put ice cream on waffles or pancakes before? Because it’s  _like_  using  _whipped_  cream, only it’s  _better._ ”

He shrugs, turning the waffle iron over. “Not good for my diet, I think.”

“ _Giant waffles_  aren’t good for your diet, what’s ice cream gonna do? Besides, I already bought ice cream. I can mix in some strawberry protein powder if you really want it to be healthier.”

Hideo frowns at the waffle iron and then lifts it open carefully, working the massive waffle out and onto a plate. “Just the once.”

Bayley scoops ice cream and gets strawberries while he’s making her waffle.

And finally, everything’s ready, and he sits down and takes one bite and says, “I should not have argued with you.”


	3. Oleg the Usurper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pigtailsandwrestlingboots asked: Oleg in the bedroom with the collar and his master (ok what I'm getting at is puppy!oleg)

The collar is leather, and the leash is a chain, because everything must match. And on one end of the leash is Oleg, and on the other end of the leash is his master, who tugs gently and says, “Come,  _mein Jagdhund._ ”

Oleg tilts his head questioningly. He’s not supposed to climb on the bed without permission. (And Jakob’s accent in German is strange to him, but then Jakob has said that  _Oleg’s_  scattered German is  _incredibly_  archaic, so they’re even.)

“Come, I said.”

A pause, and then Oleg scrambles onto the bed in a flurry of arms and legs and drapes himself across Jakob’s chest, sticking his face immediately against the side of Jakob’s neck.

Jakob snorts and twitches away, laughing. “No, no, too much!” And then, when he’s got Oleg under control, “You’re not a very good dog, you know, you get much too excited.”

Oleg’s response is to grin at him, tongue lolling ludicrously out of his mouth.

Jakob laughs again. “Come here.  _Slower._ ”

Oleg curls up against him, gently this time.

“Good boy.”


	4. Shane Matthews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shamecar asked: SHANE in the HOTEL with the CHINESE FINGER TRAP

Scott stares at it. “What is it?”

“It’s a Chinese finger trap!” Shane’s grinning manically as he holds it up for inspection. “I got today! We should try it!”

“I thought finger traps were made of paper. Do they normally have dragons on them?”

“I don’t know, but come  _on!_ ”

–

 _Luckily_  Ultramantis Black is staying in the same hotel as them, and even _more_  luckily, he’s still awake when they pound on his door twenty minutes later, Shane shouting, “Mantis! Mantis, wake up!”

He comes to the door in a robe that looks like it was bought at a Halloween store–it’s black, and covered in bats and Jack'o'lanterns–and stares at their hands. “You’re…caught in a Chinese finger trap.”

Shane is  _still grinning._  "Yeah! At first I thought it wouldn’t be a problem, because we’re best friends! But then Scott had to go to the bathroom, and that would be weird!“

Mantis continues to stare. "You thought it wouldn’t be a problem to be stuck together permanently. Because you’re best friends. Shane, you may be the dumbest man I’ve ever–where did you  _get_  this thing, by the way?”

“From a guy?”

Scott covers his face with a hand. “Please, Mantis. I  _really_  need to go to the bathroom.”

Mantis leans forward, inspects the finger trap, and then grips the dragons’ heads carefully.

The trap pops open.

“See?” Shane beams. “I  _knew_  it wouldn’t be that hard!”


	5. Ultramantis Black, Hallowicked, and Frightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> luileisi asked: Prompt: Envoy. Literally anything just fuck me up please

It’s dark. They like it best in the dark.

Mantis is pinned to the bed on his back, his hands bound above his head, gasping as Hallowicked does things with his mouth that feel so good that they would be illegal if the government found out about them. His shoulders don’t hurt, there’s no strain on them, and Hallowicked’s hands are gentle.

Until they close around his throat and start to tighten.

“Wicked, please, I–”

And the fingers loosen again and let go, and a different gentle hand touches his shoulder, and a garbled voice made suddenly distinct says,  _“Ultramantis Black.”_

Mantis looks to the side and stares in shock. “Frightmare? You’re speaking English?”

Frightmare shrugs.  _“It’s easier in nightmares.”_

“You’re actually  _here._ ”

Another shrug, and the repetition of, “ _It’s…easier in nightmares.”_

“What are you doing here?”

 _“Wanted to visit. Missed you. Hallowicked is asleep.”_  Frightmare rocks from side to side in a strange nervous gesture.  _“Flesh of his flesh. Mind of his mind. Not much time. He misses you too, and doesn’t miss you. Can’t get away, really.”_

“Then this…” Mantis indicates Hallowicked–still crouched between his legs, waiting patiently–as best as he can. “This isn’t really him?”

 _“No. Just a nightmare. Can make it a better dream if you want.”_  Frightmare glances back over his shoulder.  _“Have to go.”_

“Please don’t leave.”

_“Sorry.”_

His kiss burns like acid on Mantis’ mouth.


	6. Sexy Star and Ivelisse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: sexy star and ivelisse at the beach with ice cream cones

The sun is blazing, and a drip of ice cream falls from Ivelisse’s cone before she can stop it, and it lands on her chest. She scoops the little bit up with a finger, but before she can do anything else Sexy Star catches her hand and pulls it close and sucks the melted ice cream off her skin.

“Coffee,” she murmurs. “I thought it was chocolate. I like coffee. Coffee ice cream, not so much. But on you it’s good.”

Ivelisse squirms under her gaze. “I…it’s my favorite flavor.”

“It’s good to have favorites. Good to have opinions of your own, and not to let other people have them for you.” Sexy Star looks like she’s about to laugh. “And good to maybe have some time with you away from your…hanger-on.”

“What, Son of Havoc? He’s…not really anything.”

“May I have another taste?”

Wordless and blushing, Ivelisse holds out her ice cream cone–and Sexy Star leans forward and licks away the drizzle that’s running down the cone and onto her hand.

“I could learn to like coffee ice cream, I think.”

“Maybe,” Ivelisse replies, feeling bolder. “Would you like a little more?”


	7. Sami Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Sami Zayn in the bedroom with the Fleshlight

It’s Sami’s room, and Adrian’s liquor (and bad idea), but it’s Tyler’s phone that has the brightest screen when the power goes out, and despite his irritated huffing,  _he’s_  the one who gets up to find something else they can use for lighting until the outage is over.

“Don’t you have any  _candles?_ ” he says.

Sami shrugs. “Hard to travel with. Plus some places don’t allow them.”

“Try that cabinet over there.” Adrian takes another drink of scotch. “Might have a flashlight.”

“Oh shit not that one—”

“Why  _not,_  you  _do_  have— _oh._ ”

A long pause, Sami mute and biting his lip, Adrian’s eyes wide.

Tyler just inspects what he’s found, a thoughtful look on his face, and then looks sidelong at Sami and says, quietly, “Get on the bed.”

Sami blinks and flushes red. “What?”

"If I’m stuck with  _you_  two in a power outage then I’m getting  _some_  entertainment out of it.”


	8. Seth Rollins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> atimeforghosts asked: Seth Rollins in a thrift store with a pair of 2nd hand leather pants?

“Boss, you don’t need them.” Mercury tries to move in front of Seth.

Seth maneuvers around him. “I  _want_  them.”

“You have  _lots_  of pairs of leather pants.” Noble just looks tired.

“I like  _these._ ” Seth continues towards the counter.

“They’re probably dirty.”

“I can clean them.”

“You don’t even know if they  _fit._ ”

“They’re  _red._  I’ll  _make_  them fit.”

“Why are you so set on buying these pants?”

“They’re only five dollars. Why are you guys so set on stopping me?”

Mercury scratches the back of his head nervously and says, “I don’t know, this just…doesn’t seem like a wise use of your time. And we’re supposed to be guarding you. That includes your image, right? Red leather pants don’t seem like they’d fit your image.”

Seth pauses, then slings the pants over his arm and grabs each of his bodyguards by a shoulder. “Boys,” he says, seriously. “Red leather pants fit  _everyone’s_  image.”


	9. Kane and Daniel Bryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: daniel bryan and kane at their house with a baby goat

Kane comes into the kitchen and says, “There’s a goat. In the living room. We have a goat in the living room.”

Daniel nods patiently. “Yes, her name is Rachel.”

“…why?”

“Because I admire Rachel Carson a lot, and if I let  _you_  name her she’d just end up being ‘Baphomet’ or something.”

Kane sits down heavily at the table. “No, I mean, why do we have a goat?”

“For mowing the lawn.”

“We have a lawnmower.”

“But this is an  _organic_  solution! _”_  Daniel beams at him. “Plus, she’s cute.”

Kane nods. “So…I can’t eat her.”

Daniel’s eye twitches a little bit, but he keeps smiling. “No, Kane. You can’t eat her.”

After a moment Kane nods again and just sort of…buries his face in his hands. “Whatever makes you happy. I guess we have a goat now.”


	10. Drew Gulak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: drew gulak in the kitchen with a mouse

It’s not even running away from him.

It’s just sitting there, watching him eat his sandwich.

Drew stares down the mouse and says, “I’m not sure if you’re a very  _brave_ mouse or very stupid one.”

The mouse squeaks at him, nose twitching, and moves slightly forward.

“I’m not eating anything with cheese in it. What are you even looking for? I don’t think mice like jam…is it the peanut butter or something?” Drew frowns and scoops up a bit of peanut butter from the edge of his sandwich with his pinky, then holds his hand out to the mouse. “Not that I approve of you being in my kitchen.”

Apparently fearless, the mouse walks up to him and starts eating peanut butter off the tip of his finger. It watches him the whole time.

“I’d put you in Chuck’s bed, but I’m pretty sure you’d just get hurt.” Drew considers it for a moment. “Do you know anything about preparing legal briefs?”


	11. Sasha Banks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tedtheodorelogan asked: SASHA at WRESTLEMANIA with LESNARS CORPSE AT HER FEET

The cheering goes on for five straight minutes before someone realizes that Lesnar doesn’t seem to be moving. Sasha lowers the belt for a moment to poke him with her foot.

No response.

She cocks her head, frowning, and pokes him again.

No response.

Medics scramble into the ring, the crowd murmurs, but the answer is pretty much clear. When one of them looks up and starts talking to the referee, Sasha snaps her fingers.

She gets a microphone in seconds.

The crowd falls completely silent.

She lifts the microphone and says, very slowly and clearly, “The Beast is dead.”

A breathless pause.

“Long live the Boss.”


	12. Brad Maddox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> princefergaliciousdevitt-deacti asked: Brad Maddox in a meeting with a hard on (thats technically a noun, right?)

This meeting’s been scheduled for weeks. It’s been in Brad’s phone ever since he was told about it. And he has to assume that Seth  _looked_  at his phone at some point during the previous night’s…festivities–or maybe Dean or Roman did, Seth was pretty occupied–because this  _can’t_  be a coincidence.

He shifts in his seat.

Which makes the  _plug_  shift.

Stephanie McMahon drums her manicured nails on the table and says, sharply, “ _Brad._  Are you making notes on this? We can’t afford any mistakes at this stage.”

“Of course, Ms. McMahon.” He  _is_  making notes, he’s got a little notebook right in front of him, they’re just not very…coherent.

 _Wow,_  she is an attractive woman.

Wait, no, that’s his dick talking. Not time to listen to his dick. Or to the  _definite sensation_  of the plug. Which might have some sort of remote-controlled aspect? He feels like he can remember Seth saying something about a remote. (Maybe it was Dean with the remote, Seth giving Dean the remote seems like  _exactly_  the kind of dick move they’d pull.)

_“Maddox.”_

Shit. He’s not paying attention.

Triple H is yelling at him.

Triple H is also very attractive.

This whole situation is a problem.

Brad’s not sure he can make it through the day like this.


	13. Orange Cassidy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: orange cassidy at the mall with drew gulak's credit card

“Are you shopping for a gift today, sir? For that special someone, maybe?”

Orange blinks, coming out of his daze to find that there’s a saleswoman standing in front of him, in the middle of the mall hallway. “Uh. Yeah? Kinda?”

He frowns. Drew told him to get something, he just can’t remember what it is. Something that requires money. He has Drew’s credit card.

“I don’t really…”

“Know what to get?” The saleswoman beams at him, gently steering him towards her kiosk. “Well, you know what everyone likes?”

“A cold beer and some weed?”

She laughs in a way that looks very practiced. “No, silly.  _Pampering._  Have you heard about the benefits of Dead Sea minerals?”

“No…”

“Here, give me your hand, I’ll give you a little demonstration.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Orange’s phone rings, and he picks it up, and Drew says, “Orange, what is  _taking_  so long?”

Orange blinks. “I got distracted.”

“Well, did you pick up my jacket yet? The tailor’s really not hard to find, he’s right next to the food court.”

“Right! Yes. Your suit. No.”

“What?”

“I still need to go get it. I bought some stuff.”

“You—wait, with  _my_  credit card?”

"The saleswoman said you’d like it,” Orange mumbles weakly. “It’s very good for your skin. It feels nice.”

There’s a long pause, and then Drew says, levelly, “How much did you spend on Dead Sea snake oil stuff?”

“Um. She gave me a discount.”

_“How. Much.”_

“Three hundred dollars.”

“I’m hiring you a babysitter.”


	14. Finn Balor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> majorheelturn asked: finn in the backyard with the space suit (or the astronaut ice cream if you please)

Finn’s still wearing the space suit, and he’s hanging by his knees from a tree branch. Nobody can quite figure out why, especially since it’s eighty-five degrees in the shade, but there it is. Granted, most of them can’t figure out why Finn does  _anything._  He is, above all else, a vaguely frustrating cypher, flashy beyond belief but  _way weirder_  than most of them are prepared for.

Except for Hideo, who just says, “<You’re going to get heatstroke and die.>”

“<No, I won’t.>” Finn holds up a silvery packet. “<Astronaut ice cream. Very refreshing. Keep myself cooled down that way.>”

“<I don’t think it works like that.>”

“<I’ll be fine. I’ll have some ice cream and then go call the boys back in Japan.>” Finn rips the packet open, shakes out a little freeze-dried chunk of ice cream, and takes a bite.

A moment later he spits his mouthful back into the packet, coughing.

Hideo grins at him. “<See, I was right.>”

“That is  _foul._ ”

“<Not my fault that you don’t listen to me, we both know I’m the sensible one.>”


	15. Chuck Taylor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: chuck taylor in the kitchen with a rescued puppy

Orange is very vague on where he found the dog. He insists he didn’t steal it, and Chuck’s  _pretty_  sure he’s telling the truth, but other than that he gets a bare inch away from saying “It followed me home” without actually saying it outright.

It wouldn’t be surprising if the dog  _had_  followed him home–it looks pretty rough. One ear is ragged, it’s got a scar on its left flank, and it has a kind of janky lopsided gait, despite the fact that its legs all seem to be in working order. It also stinks to  _high heaven._  Whatever the hell breed it is, it’s not one that’s recognized by the AKC–hell, it’s probably  _banned_  by the AKC. And it takes to Chuck immediately.

“Orange,” Chuck shouts as he’s going in the fridge for sandwich things, “come get your dog, goddammit.”

“She likes you,” Orange says drowsily from the living room. “Anyway, she’s not my dog, I just found her.”

“She’s trying to eat the fucking cold cuts. All I want is a goddamn sandwich, I don’t wanna deal with this.”

“Oh man, will you make me a sandwich too?”

“No, I’m not gonna make you a sandwich, come get your goddamn dog.”

The dog goes for the sliced cheese as Chuck’s pulling out of the fridge, and he holds it up above her head, scowling. She immediately sits and looks up at him.

“You can’t have any.”

She arfs winningly.

“ _No._  It’d just give you gas anyway, I don’t want dog farts all over my house.” He manages to snag the mustard and a beer and then closes the fridge.

The dog continues to watch him expectantly. When he reaches down to shoo her away, she licks his hand.

She’s adorable.

Chuck says, “Goddammit.”

In the other room Orange says, “We should name her Fast Five.”

“We’re not naming the dog Fast Five, Orange. Will you text Drew and tell him to pick up some kibble or something?” Chuck scratches the dog’s ears. “You don’t wanna be named Fast Five, do ya, girl. We’re gonna name you Busch Light, that’s way better.”

“Drew says why do we need dog food, since when do we have a dog.”

“Tell him since now and that we also need more beer.” Chuck finally relents and tosses the dog a slice of turkey that ripped as he was taking it out of the package. “Just warning you, though, she better not pee on the Swamp Monster.”


	16. Ultramantis Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> majorheelturn asked: Ultramantis in the living room with the Christmas decorations!

There’s an art to decorating a Christmas tree. A form of precision. The first principle is  _balance,_  because you can’t have one side heavier than the other, that just looks bad. Then there’s  _pattern_  and  _symmetry,_  organizing the tinsel and globe ornaments carefully so that they form a pleasing picture. And then there’s creativity, because once the globes and tinsel and lights are up,  _then_  you can put out the others, and  _they_  need to be carefully placed too.

And then there’s frustration, when Ultramantis finds that Frightmare’s been through the ornament boxes and tied little blindfolds on every single Santa Claus.

He knows a lecture won’t do any good. Lectures won’t make Frightmare stop being afraid of Santa Claus, they’ll just make him feel bad.

Feeling a frustration that he knows is unreasonable–it would be  _unfair_  of him to expect his nightmare friend to behave against his nature–he stares down at the blindfolded Santas and tries to figure out what to do.

_An idea._

He has ribbon somewhere, right? Something festive. From last year’s gift wrapping.

When Hallowicked and Frightmare arrive and see the tree, every single ornament with eyes has been blindfolded, in bright gold ribbon. Even the angel on top of the tree has a bit of ribbon, although hers has been cut into a superhero mask.

Frightmare claps, babbling with incomprehensible delight.

Hallowicked just looks over the tree and then at Mantis and says, “< _Thank_  you.>”


	17. Sami Zayn and Adrian Neville

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> majorheelturn asked: OK i'm just going to keep sending them as they occur because I'm trash & you said ship ones so HEY sami/adrian in the bedroom with the candlesticks

“The whole ‘romantic candlelit evening’ thing doesn’t really seem like your style,” Sami murmurs.

Adrian grins down at him, flames flickering in his eyes, unsteady light illuminating his face. “It isn’t, really. Not normally bright enough.”

“So this power outage is actually to my advantage, then.” Sami reaches up, weaves his fingers through Adrian’s hair, and  _grips._  "Because I gotta say, candlelight’s a good look on you.“


	18. Dean Ambrose and William Regal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lycambrose asked: ambregal. in snowed-in cabin. with board-games.

“You’ve got no head for chess, my boy.” William Regal takes a knight from the board thoughtfully, not even watching his hands. His eyes are on Dean’s. “And no face for it, either.”

Dean snorts. “You calling me ugly?”

“No, I’m saying you don’t control your expressions. Not that you’re  _much_  to look at, but that’s a different matter.”

"I’m wounded.” Dean moves a piece without even glancing down and cracks a grin.

Regal raises an eyebrow. “If I was trying to  _wound_  you, I’d punch you in the face.” He takes another piece. “Which I might yet.”

The snow piles up against the windows as they play. There are other wrestlers in some of the other cabins, but the below-freezing temperatures and the wind make  _everyone_  want to stay inside, trapped in odd pairs and trios in the all-muffling storm.

Dean slides a pawn across the board and drawls, “King me.”

“That’s not how the game is played, young man.” But Regal smiles anyway.

The lights flicker and die as he’s reaching out to make his next move, and from the sudden silence of no running appliances it’s obvious that the power’s gone out entirely.

“So that kinda fucks up our game.”

“I think it was fucked already, to be quite honest.”

Dean’s hand finds his on the table—potentially deniable, potentially an accident, it _is_  pitch-black with the power out but his fingertips trace a pattern on the back of Regal’s hand and he says, in his lazy drawl, “We should figure out something else to do.”

Regal doesn’t move his hand forward, nor does he move it away. “Do you think so?”

“Otherwise I’m gonna get  _bored._ ”

"Well,” says Regal drily, “we wouldn’t want that, would we.”


	19. Cloudy and Frightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tedtheodorelogan asked: CLOUDY and FRIGHTMARE in HOME DEPOT with SEVENTEEN CASH DOLLARS

Cloudy stares up at the tall shelves of Home Depot and says, “I wonder how many dowels we can buy with the money Mantis gave us.”

Frightmare blinks at him and says something.

“Yeah, I  _know_  it’s supposed to be lunch money, but we can go to McDonald’s and get a ton of McNuggets for really cheap. He gave us  _seventeen whole dollars._ That’s  _way_  more than we need.”

Frightmare considers it for a moment, and then nods, and they rocket down one of the aisles.

A moment later, a sales clerk rounds the corner, looks up in horror at the orange-and-black person scaling the shelves, and says, “If you break anything you’re going to have to pay for it.”

Frightmare nods enthusiastically and leaps down from the shelves, just as Cloudy rounds the corner with ten wooden dowels in his arms. “Hey, Frightmare, I found the stuff! I’ve got them!”

The sales clerk gapes.

Cloudy drops his armload but for two dowels and tosses one to Frightmare. “Fight me!”

Frightmare catches the dowel and lunges at him.

The sales clerk stares in horror.

About ten minutes later he calls for backup, and a harried store manager arrives and says, “I’m going to have to. Ah. Ask you gentlemen to pay for your purchases and leave the store.”

Cloudy groans and gathers up the other eight dowels. He and Frightmare walk up to the front of the store together, grumbling–until, that is, Frightmare grabs his arm and points to a display near the registers, gabbling.

“Holy shit. I didn’t know Home Depot sold  _candy._ ”

The sales clerk starts looking for places to hide.


	20. Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tedtheodorelogan asked: BAYLEY in BIG E'S BACKYARD with A GIANT SWORD SHES JUST SWINGING AROUND

Kofi bends backwards with a yelp, the massive blade whistling past his nose, and says, “Whoa, what the  _hell!_ ”

“Sorry, Kofi!” Bayley backs away from him, fighting a little to get the sword under control and stumbling backwards as she does. “This thing gets some _momentum,_  wow!”

“Where did you  _get_  that thing?” He dodges a second time, leaping backwards and up into the branches of a tree as she swings it again.

Big E groans, sitting down in a lawn chair and burying his face in his hands. “One of the new guys let her borrow it. That cosplay guy, Finn? He brought it with him from Japan.”

“He says it’s from a comic!” Bayley finally gets the sword’s weight under control and starts going through an alarmingly sophisticated sword form. “Wouldn’t let me read the comic, though, so I Googled it.” She wrinkles her nose. “Which I honestly kind of regret, it’s really gross. But the sword is cool.”

Kofi scrambles another couple of feet up the tree. “Maybe put it down for a little bit, though? Like, until  _after_  Xavier’s done grilling?”

Xavier doesn’t even look up from the grill. “I’m not involving myself in this. Just a smart, athletic man working the grill. Not doing anything with the sword.”

“Good luck, man.” Big E moves his lawn chair back a bit. “I’ve been trying to get her to put that thing down for hours.”


	21. Brad Maddox and the Gentleman's Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> k3rrysh4wcr0ss asked: brad maddox & the gentleman's club in a tree house with a bottle of vodka

“The problem, you see,” says the new guy–Brad, that’s his name–taking another swig, “the  _problem_  is that nobody respects me. Not Triple H. Not Ms. McMahon. Not any of the wrestlers–you know,  _I’m_  a wrestler, and I barely even got to _wrestler._  Wrestle. Barely got to wrestle.”

Orange stares at him in sleepy-eyed fascination. “Wow, you are  _really_  putting that away.”

“ _That_  coming from  _you?_ ”  _Chuck_  is staring at  _Orange._  "How did you find this guy?“

"I am  _really good at what I do._ ” Brad moves as if to take another drink from the bottle and then stops. “And you know what I do? I  _talk._  And I  _wrestle._  And I’m _really good_  at  _talking._  And  _wrestling._  And being  _really handsome._ ” He takes a sip and looks muzzily at Chuck. “You have nice hair.”

Chuck turns bright red and says, “Um,” and then takes the bottle away from him. “Gimme some of that.”

Doc slings an arm around Brad’s shoulders. “I like this kid. Kid, I like you. You seem like you’ve got a good…stomach.”

“Thanks. You…you guys are wrestlers, right? Do you want a talky handsome guy? I’m good at talking. And being handsome. And wrestling.”

Orange and Chuck glance at each other. Orange says, “Well, Drew’s not always around. Hey, New Guy Brad, do you like  _Fast Five?_ ”

Brad steals the vodka back from Chuck. “I  _love_  that movie. With, with the cars and the  _Rock_  and the…stuff…”

“I vote he stays.”

“As long as he doesn’t freak out the Swamp Monster.” Chuck tries to wrestle the vodka bottle away from Brad again but just ends up slumping against his other side, the one Doc isn’t occupying, and taking a drink from the bottle while Brad’s still holding it. “Because we have a Swamp Monster, that’s a thing we have.”

Brad’s head flops onto Chuck’s shoulder. “Cool. I’m gonna pass out now.”

“That’s fair. Orange, close the trap door so the new guy doesn’t fall out of the tree.”


	22. Adrian Neville and Tyler Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tedtheodorelogan asked: ADRIAN NEVILLE in a FASHION SHOW with TYLER BREEZE FOAMING WITH JEALOUSY

“You do the  _walk_  wrong.”

Adrian smirks at him. “Doing it better than you, obviously, or they would’ve hired you.”

“ _Shut_  up.” Tyler rolls his eyes. “They hired you because you were  _with_  me. Don’t embarrass me.”

Across the room, a couple of sharp-eyed models are speaking quietly to a critic, who’s watching Adrian with some interest. There’s a whisper of, “the new Brutalist style in  _haute couture,_ ” and Tyler huffs irritably.

“Look, Tyler, I don’t know how all these little clips work,  _please_  help.”

Another irritated huff, and he starts doing up the hooks and eyes that Adrian is struggling with. “Because you’re  _not_  a  _model_  and if you  _embarrass_  me in front of my  _agent_  by falling on your face on the runway I will  _strangle_  you.”

“I’m not much happier about it than you are, I only said yes because I like making you angry.” Adrian grins at him, shifting obligingly so that Tyler can help him with some of the other clasps.

“I’m not  _angry,_  I’m just very disappointed in everyone’s taste. They don’t _deserve_  me.” Tyler does up the last hook-and-eye with a scowl. “And also I hate you.”

“Wish me luck.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later?”

Tyler snorts unflatteringly. “You  _wish._ ”


	23. Deucalion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> scumbagnaito-archived asked: deucalion in the kitchen with a book written entirely in runes

Deucalion is fairly large anyway, but when seated at a fold-down table in a tiny hotel-suite kitchenette he looks  _enormous._ He’s got the book open on the table in front of him, scanning its pages with an unreadable expression on his face.

Then he looks up at Jimmy and says, with calm disappointment, “This is not the book I asked for.”

Jimmy blinks. “It’s…not?”

“Look at it closely.” Deucalion beckons Jimmy to come and look, and then grabs his wrist and pulls him closer when he hesitates. “This book is written in runes, with illustrations. The book I  _asked_  for is written in Greek, and has diagrams. I cannot read this, and it is of no use to me.”

“You can’t read runes?”

“I am a civilized person, not some Northern barbarian like the one Bakabella employs.”

“Actually, Oleg is Wallachian.”

Deucalion gives Jimmy a look permeated with  _why do you think I care about that_  and says, very calmly, “You have brought me the wrong book. Go get me the right one.”

“Breaking into the Library of Congress isn’t  _easy_ , you know. It took Volgar  _three days_  to–”

“You sent  _Volgar?_ ”

“Well, yes. I was delegating. I have a lot of work to do for you.”

“If I had wanted  _that_  incompetent to fetch something for me, I would have asked him myself. I asked  _you,_  because you can be  _relied_  upon.” Deucalion sighs, and then reaches for–a pen, he’s reaching for a pen. He writes something in neat Greek script along the inside of Jimmy’s arm. “This is its title. Get it for me, _personally._  I require it.”

Jimmy scowls. “Of course, Deucalion. Right away. What do you want me to do with  _this_  one?”

Deucalion glances over the open pages again and says, “Leave it. I suppose I will spend the time awaiting your return learning to read  _runes._ ”


	24. Tyson Kidd, Antonio Cesaro, and Natalya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shamecar asked: tyson&nattie&cesaro in tyson's house with a swarm of cats

Cesaro sneezes violently and Nattie just says, “Oh, no.”

“Oh no what? Heyyyyy.” Tyson crouches at the door, beaming as the cats press up against his shins. “Hey, I missed you guys, I know Face Time isn’t the same, I’m so glad to  _see_  you.”

Cesaro sneezes again. “How many cats do you  _have?_ ”

“Crap, Toni, you’re not allergic, are you?” Nattie manages with some difficulty to close the front door. “We only  _have_  three, but…TJ feeds strays. And apparently he’s gotten the cats’ nanny to start doing it too? And letting them into the house? TJ, when did we start letting strays into the house?”

“I’m not allergic, no, but I think anyone would sneeze with this many cats around.”

Tyson is, at this point,  _sitting_  on the floor, nearly disappearing in the middle of a seething, mewing, furry mass. He’s in absolute bliss; he doesn’t seem to be aware that the other two are talking.

“TJ, it’s been a long drive, we need to get some dinner.”

He doesn’t notice.

Nattie sighs heavily, folding her arms on her chest, and then says, “Toni?”

Cesaro takes a deep breath, reaches down into the mass of cats, and lifts Tyson up by the scruff of his neck. Tyson flails ineffectively. “Hey, don’t pick me up!” Which has no effect on Cesaro, who drapes Tyson over his shoulder like he’s just a very mobile duffel bag.

“You don’t  _listen_  to me, that’s what you get.” Nattie snaps her fingers. “Come on, Toni, we need to put the bags upstairs and then we can order a couple of pizzas or something.”

“Sounds good to me. Anchovies on one?” Cesaro adjusts his grip on his other bag and snags Tyson’s as well before following Nattie towards the bedroom.

“Sure, if you want.” Nattie swats her husband on the ass as Cesaro overtakes her. “Stop complaining, TJ, I wouldn’t have had him pick you up if you were paying attention.”

“Heyyyyyy, put me down, don’t act like I don’t weigh anything.”

Cesaro grins, patting Tyson on the thigh. “To me, it’s like you don’t.”


	25. Paige and Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lycambrose asked: Paige & Emma. In a car on a road trip. With show tunes playing on an iPod.

Paige is driving. That means Emma’s the one with free hands, which in turn means that she’s in control of the iPod. Which could mean a lot of things, but at the moment it means  _show tunes._

Which Paige doesn’t really mind. It could be worse. At least her selection of show tunes is fairly diverse.

They talk, and sometimes they sing along, and then the opening strains of  _one particular song_  begin and Emma just perks  _right_  up and, almost in time with the stereo (it’s  _always_  “almost,” girl has  _no_  rhythm), sings, “Seems a downright _shame!_ ”

Paige blinks. “Shame?”

“Seems an awful  _waste!_ ”

“Waste?”

And they’re off, with Paige as Sweeney Todd and Emma as Mrs. Lovett. That’s how they normally sing it.

This time, though, when they’re getting into the meat of the song, Paige says, “What is that?”

And instead of “priest,” Emma eye’s gleam and she sings to Paige, “It’s Beast! Try a little Beast!”

“Is it really  _good?_ ”

“Paige, it’s  _too_  good, at least! Then again they don’t commit sins of the flesh–”

“Like wrestling more than once a year?”

Emma winks. “So it’s pretty fresh!”

Paige grins. “Not a lot of fat.”

“Only where it sat!”

“Haven’t you got Taker, or something like that?”

“No, you see, the trouble with him is he’s really been too long deceased–try the Beast!”

–

They continue in that vein for the entire song, including a triumphant roar from Paige of “I’ll come again when there’s a  _belt_  on the menu!” It sees them through the very tail end of the drive, the song trailing off as they’re parking at the venue.

When they get inside, the first person they see is Seth, trailed by his two flunkies. As soon as Paige and Emma see him they both start laughing.

Seth looks slightly unnerved. “What’s got you two in such a good mood?”

“Seth.” Emma grins. “Seth, Seth, Seth.”

“No offense, man,” and Paige pats him on the shoulder, “but we’re going to kill _all_  of you.”


End file.
